Acrostic Sandrine Vaillant After William Shakespeare Sonnet Xviii Poem by Jonathan ROBIN

Shall I compare her to a summer's day?
A thousand times more sweet she seems to me!
Nor can Time 's winds - (which darling buds of May
Do shake)  - unsettle love's perennity.
Restrained the eye of heaven sometimes seems,
It often sends a drought, or shines too hot,
No permanence is possible, like dreams
Each season soon declines, returneth not!
Vain are Time's wings when with eternal signs
A poet frames her praises in fair verse,
Imprinting, for the Future, lyric lines,
Lending life when all else finds a hearse.
Life glories her as long as Man draws breath,
ANThem to her spurns shadow-land of Death!



28 October 1992